Speed and Power
by NCR Ranger
Summary: Kashkuri girls like a man who can fiddle with machines.


_This'll end up being such a waste of my talents. Oh, and she'll chew me out like a total banshee. Hooray._

Damon Baird had been thinking essentially that one thought on a loop for the past 15 minutes- at least. It came and gone, but the point was, it always came back. After at least a few minutes, that one nagging thought came creeping back into his mind. He'd throw it out, but then it'd come back again anyway.

_Man, why did I even bother ?_

Running a hand through his short sandy-colored hair, the one time Lieutenant and self appointed sarcasm master of Delta Squad exhaled in partial tiredness, and partial annoyance ( that second one being the stronger of the two ), and leaned closer to the focus of the project he was so sure wasn't going to matter:

A Rat-Bike.

Specifically, _Samantha Byrne's_ Rat-Bike.

The bulky-yet-streamlined two wheeled motorcycle was currently leaning up against the bare concrete side of the modestly sized garage that was more of a poor man's machinist's shop than a real home for cars. After all, virtually nobody had a working vehicle in Anvil Gate ( or anywhere else on Sera, actually ) these days, aside from a handful of Packhorse trucks, rickety relics ( aka, classical cars ), and of course, Rat Bikes. Imulsion was a thing of the past now, what with the late Professor Adam Fenix's wonder weapon having burned it- and the Locust/Lambent along with it- away.

Now, what few vehicles that hadn't gotten destroyed/ left to rust themselves derelict/ had only the virtually-nonexistent fossil fuels instead. That, of course, included this bike.

_Great. I love unnecessary challenges. Right behind nagging women, and know it all officers. Or, any cross between all 3 of them. Great, great._

Right- challenges. The bike in question had been built to run off imulsion- as everything else on the planet had been. Now, there was no imulsion. So, ergo-

_Ohhh, and as if salvag/ing it from the burnt and decrepit ruins of the Vectes docks hadn't been hard enough. That was supposed to be nothing but an ammo run- get some more rounds so Anvil Gate could defend itself against what might've lived through Fenix the Egghhead's great purge. And me, being the fool that I am, _had _to get distracted by _this_ piece of garbage._

_Sam didn't know about it. It was her bike, but getting herself out of Vectes alive came over getting it out with her. Why did I have to remember how much she cared about it anyway ? Why ? What is wrong with my mind these days ?_

Said mind of Baird carried on berating him, while his hands- weathered and scratched up from too many close calls with razor hail- also kept busy with the finishing touches of the bike's conversion.

He'd been at it, on and off, for the past few days. Normally, it'd have taken less than that ( so he wanted to think, anyway ), but between the constant effort required to clean up the damage the Locust attacks/ effects of the elements had done to Anvil Gate, combined with the lack of a real repair facility, Baird found his progress somewhat, well, hampered.

Frustrating ? To a T. But, Baird couldn't leave well enough alone. He'd always finished every project he'd ever begun though- even that wretched data disk that Colonel Hoffman had nicked from the late and great Chairman Prescott, with its cast-iron encryption, had eventually opened itself up ( granted, that was because Marcus had turned up out of the blue with the _encryption key _that _Prescott had given him _right before the latter _died _in the sinking of the _CSV Sovereign, _but hey. ). He'd finished all of them; he could do it again here. Heck, he _was_ doing it.

Question is, _why_ should he keep going ?

_Shut up, you. There's an easy answer, and you know it. You like that bossy, stubborn, temperamental woman. You like Samantha- and yeah, maybe you could call her that instead of 'Sam ', 'cause its a bit more of a girl's name. You told her as much back on Azura, remember ? You were serious about it, and you can't help your dumb ass if you want to do nice things for her._

Baird didn't think he'd ever understand why the bit of him that was actually human wouldn't stop talking, and saying things like that. Mostly because ( in this case, at least ), it was actually _right._

To his even greater confusion, that stubborn side of him did something else:

It made him, _smile._

Not a big smile, needless to say. But, it was a real one, with the corner of his mouth turning up. His hands tinkered on, tightening up a rather stubborn bolt with the only clean wrench he had.

Things weren't so bad after all. He was doing something he'd always had a soft spot for- fixing something mechanical- for someone who he ( inexplicably ) had developed a soft spot for. It was so sappy, he wanted to scoff. And didn't, which wasn't like him.

_Dang. I can't remember the last actual smile that crossed my face. I must be more deranged than I thought if its there now. Huh._

_That's, odd. Haven't gotten used to it completely, but could be worse, I suppose._

_I think._

* * *

Unspecified hours later, he was done. His fingers were thoroughly sore, and were need of some serious cleaning, but he was done.

" You're either my finest work, or you're a complete screwup. Or both, depending on how Miss Byrne thinks of you. " Baird stood back, reflexively smacking his palms together a few times in a vain play to get rid of at least a token amount of the grime.

It didn't but Baird decided that could wait. A quick rinse was certainly in order, but _first,_ he was going to find out for absolute certain if this pile of scrap iron would actually run or not. For all his confidence in his craftsmanship ( its not arrogance if you can back it up ), Baird was nothing if not exact.

Besides, this was technically Samantha's bike.

" Ok, ok, so far so good. Finally, I have a use for this _one_ jerrycan of oil. "

* * *

_Vrmmmm, vrmmmm, vrmmmm._

Well, how about that.

The machine vibrated harder than one of those palm-sized devices you used to get at upscale restaurants to let you know when your table was ready, the seat was about as comfortable to sit on as a hardwood table, the handlebars cheerfully scraped skin off your hands whenever you twisted them, and foot pedals weren't doing that good a job of keeping the soles of your shoes from slipping off.

_I love this thing. Really, I do: Its even more banged up, ornery, and hostile sounding than I am ! Or, at least, how everyone thinks I am._

Seated astride the bike, Baird held on tight, as he rode the " My God, this relic actually does run "- esque bike down one of the widest streets of town. The tires- about the only component of the bike that were in near-enough pristine condition- bumped and rattled over the cobblestones. The suspension protested somewhat over each jounce and bounce, shaking the sarcastic Gear riding it like a rag caught in a shark's mouth for a half second at least, but otherwise, it handled the road fairly well.

It actually _was._

Baird's goggles-he ones he'd hard practically fused to his head for the past 10+ years- were pulled down ( for once ), doing their job. Through them, he observed more than a few wide-eyed glances from what pedestrians ( there's a word he didn't think he'd ever use ) were making their way along the sidewalks and roadsides. Seeing a rolling engine powered vehicle was getting borderline rare, to the point that Baird wasn't unconvinced that horses and carriages would be making a comeback at some point, somewhere on Sera.

_Technological regression. Its a crying shame_. _Next, we'll be waving swords around rather than Lancers, God forbid._

A corner was coming up, and Baird sensibly throttled back. The Ratbike did at least have a respectable turning circle- even this relic-, and he was soon headed forward again. The new street was smaller than the other one, clearly designed for the aforementioned horses and carriages that had actually gone up and down these pathways in the back when days.

Quaint and typical as ever. Including most of the buildings here.

Baird brought the bike to a stop in front of one of them. It, along with most of its neighbors, had the distinction of _not_ having been razed and/or damaged badly, like so many of the town's infrastructure. This quarter of Anvil Gate was now the town's bastion of un-tarnished-ness. Somewhere that the locals could go to relax, socialize, and generally take advantage of the progress the town had made.

_Some things are worth fighting for_. Baird switched off the engine, and the surprisingly pleasant sounding growl of the 1.7 liter engine died out._ Like having a future that doesn't include hordes of scaly creatures out to kill you every day._

_Dom. I hope you and Maria are doing ok. We're getting by not so bad ourselves._

_Oh, and needless to say, I want to say thanks to you too, Professor Fenix. Tough like a Fenix should be. to the end._

Exhaling, he moved his jaw around, before stretching his arms back, then sliding off the bike. He removed the key, pocketed it, then turned and went inside the building in front of him.

It was a cafe- not a bar, let alone a full fledged restaurant-, named _Lancer's Last Round. _The neon sign of the rifle in question, depicted firing a shot, did much to illustrate the point. They'd even gotten the colors right- the Lancer was steel shaded, with a splash of red around the jagged teeth of the chainsaw blade. Baird could practically hear the revving of the saw right now.

_Marcus nearly died the day we hit on inventing that. Tai carved that Locust drone up with a rock saw, and Pad was like, " Hey, let's bolt that kit onto a Lancer ! " _

_Good times. Rest in peace, Tai. Your " kit " saved a whole boatload of Gears. Including me_

Baird stepped fully across the doorway.

The interior of the cafe was lined with actual hardwood slats on its floor, which creaked ever so slightly. The walls were roughly hewed stone taken from the cliffs of Anvil Gate themselves, and decorated with a variety of decent quality landscape paintings.

Overall, the interior was not large by any reach, but it had some authentic local-style charm that even Damon Baird could- and had- become accustomed to. It had enough capacity for about two dozen patrons, scattered across half as many tables. A wraparound counter was set against the far wall, and at the back-somewhat incongruously- sat a _pool table._

Utilizing the somewhat small but comfortably relaxed place, was about 8 or 9 patrons. Dressed in clothes that were a balance between casual everyday wear, and outdoorsy " ready to dig with a post hole digger " style, they were engaged in the usual activities of anyone enjoying downtime; chatting, drinking, and taking shots with the pool cues across the big table, raising the loud _clack, clack, clack _of the spheres as the crashed into each other.

Among them, was none other than Samantha Byrne.

Baird had spotted her early on; he'd known she'd be here. This was one of her favorite hangouts, somewhere she always made time for, no matter how hectic and busy things got- and God knows things had been both around town for a while.

_Seems she's learned the secret of enjoying your life. We're suited to having fun, us Serans._

With a degree of amusement, Baird watched as Samantha eagerly offered a suggestion to a short- and also another brunette- woman who was about to take a shot at the 8 ball. Pointing and whispering, the brunette then stood back, as the other one inhaled, steadied the cue-

\- and sank the 8, neatly and cleanly.

" Oya ! ", Samantha laughed. " You should listen to me more often, Daisy. "

The second bru- Daisy- shrugged, but smiled. " Yeah. There might be something to that. ", she admitted, with an accent that sounded quite similar to Samantha's.

_Local girls having a blast, eh ?_

It wouldn't have been so bad to keep watching them go at it, but right now, Baird had something else in mind for a one Samantha Byrne.

_Which is currently sitting outside. Unless someone stole it already._

_Ha. As if they could get it working. Wait that's-no, no its not arrogance if you're right. Anyway, stop gawking and get on with it._

He cleared his throat, and called out to her.

" Hey, Samantha ! "

Using her full name certainly got the brunette's attention. She blinked, and turned her head to find where the person addressing her was. Realizing it was Baird, she grinned, and waved.

" Hey, Damon. Over here, love. We're about to kick off another game. "

Thumbs hooked in pockets, Baird sauntered over. He had to admit, he was mildly interested in participating- nobody on Delta really knew how good he was at pool, because he'd not ever really played with them- but that would have to wait for now.

He had plans, after all.

" Pool ? Well, shucks, I'd love to, but- "

_Drat. That wasn't as smooth as I planned. What now ?_

" Come onnnn " , Daisy lazily spun her cue around. " Its a slow day today. What could you have scheduled that's so important it can't wait ? "

" Glumly brooding, I'd say. ", Samantha guessed.

Both girls shared a chuckle at that. Baird mentally sighed.

_Females. Sometimes, I swear they are too much_

_Can't live with them, but can't live without them either. Speaking of which-_

_" As I was saying_ ", the Gearhead Gear continued methodically. " I want to- heck, I actually will- , but there's something I need Samantha's help with first. Yeah, I know, I know- slow day and all that, but even slow days have at least one thing that needs doing. "

" Only one ? ", Samantha looked longingly at the table. " I was slaying it over here. "

" Promise, hand on chest, it won't take long. "

_That's all you could come up with ? Why not tell her the truth- its easy, quick and_-

" Please, Sam ? 10 minutes, and you'll be back dominating everyone else. "

" Hey ", Daisy scoffed. " It wasn't that one sided. "

" Forgive me, I beg you. ", Baird offered her a half apologetic expression, then looked back to Sam. He raised an eyebrow.

The Kashkuri Gear sighed.

" Oh, sod it. Allright, ok. "

_Yeeees._

Samantha carefully set her cue back into its place on the rack. " If I don't come back by then, Daisy, assume this miserable goat had kidnapped me. "

" I'll bring the cavalry ! ", Daisy called cheerfully, as Baird began leading Samantha outside.

* * *

" Right, Damon. What's this job you needed me- "

2 seconds after setting foot outside the_ Lancer's Last Round_, that was as far as Samantha got.

"- for. Oh, my God. "

She said nothing else, but Baird studied her face, and the expression of astonishment was all over it.

Eyes widened, mouth came open. She'd come to a standstill, and looked at what was in front of her.

" Its- Its here ! Wow, you- its here ! "

Samantha hurried over to the Rat Bike now, and began touching it all over- gripping the handlebars, patting the leather of the seat, even looking at her reflection in the mirrors. For a few seconds, she was more at home than Baird had ever seen her.

And to his great amazement, that brought him real pleasure. Making someone else feel good by giving them something you knew they truly cared about wasn't something he did often- he couldn't even remember when- but he'd done exactly that now.

And he liked it. For several seconds, he watched her, and liked it.

" Baird- "

Samantha turned around, and looked up. She was clearly delighted, smiling and in a thoroughly upbeat mood.

" Baird, you put this together ? But, we don't have any imulsion in town. How did you- "

" Wait, it runs on, fossil fuels ? Really ?! You got it to do that ?! "

It was impossible not feel like a big man on campus at her praise, so Baird didn't fight the feeling. He smiled back, and jabbed a thumb at himself.

" Well, it was torture, but yeah. I managed. "

_Women dig humility. _

Sam must've bought it, because she suddenly stepped away from the bike, came over to him, and kissed him.

Baird's brows shot up, and he could've sworn his pulse quickened.

_Woah, woah- that happened ? It did !? _

_Not complaining, though. Nope._

Samantha pulled back. She hadn't stopped smiling. Frankly, Baird wasn't surprised.

_Why should she stop now, anyway ? The more reason we all have to smile these days, the better._

_We won. We survived. We have each other , me and her. That sounds like cause to smile for me._

_" _Thank you. I really appreciate this. Who'd have thought you're actually a _nice_ man ? "

Samantha's left handed compliments were as well received by Baird as ever, and he couldn't help but shrug, accompanied by quick but real chuckle.

" I can't answer _that_, to be honest, but what I _can_ do, is take you for a spin on this bad boy. "

He gestured to the waiting bike.

" Well, how about it ? "

Samantha, unsurprisingly, didn't waste a second in responding.

" Only ", she warmly insisted, " if you drive. "

Baird smirked.

" Deal ", he told her.


End file.
